Testo: Sycamore Dreams. A Black Day In A White Winter. Within Reason.

Within Reason
?And what was left?
Was her head programmed that was built beautifully seeing through the humanity.
You can't despise her ways confused, concerned.
I despised, I despised. The sun won't rise, fall, rise, fall.
She feels no humanity,
I despise I despised. The sun won't rise, fall, rise, fall.
(Jay, Irving Rose)???
Lost to this game made by me not me to blame. My game is here.
Walking through your garden, left me awake, watching my spirit again.
Let me continue to punch it away, watch me continue laughing.
I guess not, I guess not
I waste no mercy. You're waste, not with me
To see what?s left with me
You molded a masterpiece of perfect perfection.
(Josh, Bodies In The Gears Of The Apparatus)??.
I guess not, I get stitched.
In hate I woke, Hell I see in me.
This time I snip the ribbon.
But I'm lost to this game made by me, sometimes you look like you
can disown me. Our romance will come to war, this loving end caught inside.
This is what I expected